“Thanks,” I gasp, holding my half-frozen hands out to the heater vents. The blast of warm air melts the snow on my gloves, and I sigh in relief.
“No problem, sweetheart.” The driver pulls out cautiously onto the road, and I study him while he focuses on his task. Early thirties, dark hair, good-looking, probably wearing a wedding ring under his gloves. There’s a child’s car seat behind me. Family man, as though the minivan weren’t already a dead giveaway. I worry for a moment that I have the wrong guy. He has a soft look to his face, like he’d spend his spare time rescuing kittens. This can’t be the guy I want.
“So, what’s a nice girl like you doing hitchhiking on a night like this?” Laugh lines crinkle as he smiles at me. It would be a nice expression if it weren’t for the cruelty glittering in his eyes.
Still, I want to be wrong. I don’t want to believe this man with a car seat in the back and an Elmo doll peeking out from behind the driver’s seat could be a murderer. He looks harmless. Maybe he’s innocent. After two years of this, I want to believe there’s still something good in this world.
Maybe this man driving in the middle of a snowstorm is just an average guy going to get milk so his kids can have hot cocoa.
He’s thinking how nice it will be to cut out your heart.
The whisper in the back of my mind isn’t unexpected, and it puts the brakes on any doubts I may have had about the man driving. The truth is, I’ve been walking down this road every night for the past week, waiting for him to pick me up. We’ve been looking for him since I got to West County.
Let’s finish him now. I want to watch him squirm.
I mentally silence the voices and turn a wide smile to the man. I haven’t yet answered his question, and I hope it seems like I was considering my answer instead of the quality of his sins. “My mom and I had a fight, so I need to get to the bus station. My dad lives out in New York.” I notice the way he licks his lips before looking away. I’m a girl that could disappear without anyone knowing about it for a while. Just his type.
“Oh, that’s too bad, honey. Well, I don’t think the buses are running in this weather, but I’ll give you a ride into town anyway.”
I give him a wide smile. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
“Did you want to call your mom and let her know where you are, so she doesn’t worry? You can borrow my phone.”
“Naw. She’ll be passed out by now. She always gets drunk after she gets paid.” I look out the window, like I’m fighting back emotion. In another life I could’ve been an actress.
“Oh, okay. I see.” I can almost feel the glee coming off him. In the back of my mind They keep up a constant dialogue, arguing between Themselves.
First we need to find a spot, somewhere off the main road . . . The serpent woman’s sibilant voice trails off as she starts to plan. She’s interrupted by the hawk’s scream.
No. Let’s do it now!
Patience, Tisiphone. We must do it right.
The serpent, Megaera, is correct. Rushing ends in disaster.
The car turns down a nearly invisible road, little more than a cut through the woods. I turn to the driver with what I hope is alarm. “This isn’t the way into town.”
“I have to go by a friend’s house first, before I take you to the bus station. You don’t mind, do you?”
Not at all, but any girl with half a brain would be a little afraid. “Can’t you go by his house on the way back?”
“Nope. Sorry.” He turns his well-practiced smile on me once again, his face absent of any apology. Even if I didn’t have Them in the back of my mind, I would know there was something off about this man.
But if I were a normal girl, it would be too late.
Snow and darkness hide the road, even with the headlights attempting to cut through the gloom. Trees press in on either side, their branches scraping the glass like the scrabbling hands of vengeful victims. I kind of like the sound.
We ride in silence until the trees open up, revealing a rustic cabin. I lean forward, trying to see through the windshield. “Your friend lives here?”
“Actually, no.” He turns off the car and lunges for me. I’m taken by surprise. I expected him to lure me inside the cabin. His hands lock around my throat, and I gasp as my air supply is cut off. I pry ineffectively at his fingers for a few heart-pounding seconds, but already there are dark spots at the edges of my vision.
Time to call for backup.
I release the hold I have on Them, and They boil forth, manifesting from the back of my mind. The heat of another realm fills the interior of the van, and the snowflakes sticking to the outside of the windows melt away. There isn’t much room for Them in the minivan. Tisiphone’s mottled brown wings press against the glass of the windows, and the serpents on Megaera’s head brush the roof of the minivan. The sight of Them crammed into the narrow space behind the driver’s seat would make me laugh, if I weren’t being strangled.
Something must show in my expression, because the man turns just in time for Megaera to grab him with a scaled hand. Whatever he was going to say trails off in a gurgle as the serpent throws him backward. His head hits the driver’s side-window with a dull cracking sound.
I cough as air fills my lungs. The man gives me and my companions a wide-eyed look and fumbles behind him for the handle. The door flies open, and he flees. I’m in no condition to chase him or control Them. My body is enjoying being able to breathe again, and my throat aches. They take advantage of the freedom, tearing out into the snowy night behind the man. Over the howling of the wind I can hear his screams of terror, and I lurch out of the car to follow the sound, tracking the path of melted snow through the forest while I gasp for breath. I stop when I find Them, the guilty man hunching at the base of a pine tree.
“Don’t,” I croak as Tisiphone raises one of her talon-hands to swipe at the man. She pauses, hand poised in midair. They would usually burn away a soul if given half the chance, but it has been a while since They were allowed to play. They’re savoring his pain and fear. He’s a treat, a man with a long history of hurting women. Someone who has caused that much pain deserves to suffer. It’s the only reason he’s still alive.
But I can’t let Them hurt him the way They want to. The coroner won’t exactly think it’s just a heart attack if this guy looks like he was attacked by an animal.
His eyes light on me, and he lunges forward, Tisiphone’s hesitation the opening he needed. He doesn’t get far. She grabs him by the throat and jams him against the tree hard enough to dislodge snow from the branches. It evaporates into steam around us. The snow on the ground has already melted from Their presence, revealing a thick carpet of dried pine needles.
While I’m studying the ground, Tisiphone’s talon-fingers clench, the black nails cutting into the soft flesh of his neck. At my pointed look she lets him go and steps back. He rubs the bloody spots on his throat. “What are you? What the hell are you?” the man blabbers, and I can’t help but smile.
“There are plenty of nightmares that stalk the night. I’m yours.”
I step forward, taking my place between the other two with a sigh of relief. Silver chains encircle my arms, leading back to Them and binding us together. My vision splits in three, seeing what They see too. It’s like looking at a dressing room mirror, each image slightly different. Tisiphone’s vision is bright colors and a flash of images as she reads his past crimes. Megaera’s is cast in red, heat vision more than anything. She sees the pain of his past victims clinging to him. I can see only what is in front of me, but my weakness isn’t a hindrance.
Three is the right number. Now we are complete.
“Matthew Alders, you are accused of killing women, and keeping their hearts as trophies. How do you plead?”
His eyes are wild, and he looks from Megaera, to me, to Tisiphone. She flaps her wings once and grins at him, and he cowers even more. “What, what are you talking about? What are you?”
I grab Alders by the chin an
d use Tisiphone’s ability to read the sins written on his soul. This works only when the Furies have manifested physically and the silver chains connect us, which is a shame. It would make life a lot easier if I could do it all the time.
It takes seconds to see the parade of his victims. A montage flickers past, Alders on the computer checking out dating sites and e-mailing lonely women while a little girl plays at his feet, him driving along the same road where he found me, picking up random strangers. My stomach turns as I watch him bring all of them here to his cabin. I break the connection after I see what he did to the first girl, who was around my age. I don’t need Megaera’s special sight to see that this man is a monster.
I swallow my nausea and drop my hand to my side. “Guilty,” I whisper.
“Guilty!” the hawk screams, excitement coloring the sound.
“Guilty,” the serpent echoes, her low voice solemn. The slightest hint of a smile plays around her thin, scaled lips.
I hold out my hand. The chains looping around my arms flow forward, swirling and coalescing into a silver sword. I don’t bother saying anything else to Alders, I’m so disgusted by the things he’s done. Men who prey on women are the worst sort of creature. Monsters like Alders deserve to die.
Even if it is wrong to kill them.
I hesitate for a moment. As much as I know that it’s the smart thing to do, I don’t want to kill Alders. I hate the way his death will eat at me, making me question our actions. Are we truly the ones who should be handing down justice? Wouldn’t it be better to hand him over to the police, let the proper authorities deal with him?
But then I think about the next girl he’ll pick up on this lonely road, and the chances that the evidence won’t be enough to convict him. And I know that I have no other choice.
Besides, it’s the price that the Furies demand. What else am I going to do?
I stab him through the chest with the sword, and he stiffens as his heart stops. It’s a better death than the one he gave his victims, and I pull the blade out with a grunt. Beside me Tisiphone and Megaera sigh sadly. It went too quickly for Them, and Their disappointment is almost palpable.
With Alders dead I’m able to focus, and I direct my thoughts toward pushing the Furies back into my subconscious. It’s a bit like mentally reeling in a fish, but They don’t fight me. They aren’t always so cooperative.
Once They are sequestered in the back of my mind, I walk back to the minivan, the woods around me eerily silent. The blowing snow has stopped for a moment, and a deep sense of peace settles over me. I don’t always enjoy our work, but I have to believe I’m doing good, helping Them. Because of me other women won’t have to endure what I did.
But in the end it doesn’t really matter if what we do is right or not. The Furies are all I need. And I would do anything to keep Them happy.
I reach the minivan. The door is still open, and the interior light beckons to me with the promise of heat. I rifle through the inside, finding Alders’s wallet and emptying it. I have my own money, an inheritance from my parents and grandmother, but if I touch it, the authorities will know where I am. I’m technically still a ward of the state until I’m eighteen, and I have no intention of ever going back to Georgia. So instead of trying to use my inheritance, I live off the guilty. Tonight’s haul is a whopping sixty-eight dollars.
Now that I’m done handing down Matthew Alders’s justice, I’m tired. I just want to get back to my apartment so I can sleep. I consider taking the van but decide it’s better to leave it where it is. No sense in giving the police any reason to suspect foul play. I pull the hood of my coat tight with a sigh. Then I hike back down the road to my car.
It takes me a little more than an hour to make it back. The afterglow of the justice makes it seem like a much shorter trip. Still, by the time I clear the snow off my windshield, I’m half-frozen. I get into my car and wait for the heater to warm up, shivering in the driver’s seat like a junkie coming down from a fix. When the hot air starts blowing, I start for home, feeling light even though I’m dog tired.
It’s only when I remember that I have school tomorrow that the euphoria of the justice melts away, leaving behind an odd knot of dread and excitement.
THE FIRST THIRD
Seconds after my head hits the pillow, I open my eyes to a bleak landscape, the colors muted like in an old photograph. Rust-colored earth and jagged mountains form geography not of this world. The sky is cloudless, and a heated wind scours my skin, making it feel like it’s being baked off. The heat will follow me back to the waking world, leaving my sheets soaked from the sweat of being in this other realm.
The serpent and the hawk are nowhere to be found, only the woman in flowing white. Alekto, the third Fury. The one I’ve replaced. At times when I’ve been here, I’ve watched the three of Them fight, Their words like the screams of wounded animals, unintelligible but filled with rage and sorrow. Mostly I end up here when Alekto wants to chat. She’s the one who told me Their true names, who taught me how to bring Them to heel, and how to mitigate the effects of Their bloodlust. Without her I would have gone crazy, truly insane, a long time ago.
Still, for someone who abandoned the cause, she sure does like to interfere a lot, and that makes me despise her.
Unlike the other two, she is human. Well, as human as a mythical creature can be. She isn’t like Them, animal parts mashed together with human features. She is beautiful and golden, like a living statue. It’s in her image that the Furies remade me, a side effect of Their possession. My hair used to be dark, a brown so deep it was almost black. My eyes were always blue, but a shade closer to gray. Now Alekto and I share the same corn silk ringlets and sapphire-blue eyes. Her skin has a golden hue, the one feature of hers that They either didn’t or couldn’t copy. I could never mimic the look unless I rolled around in glitter. And that’s not happening. She gleams as she walks across the earth toward me, her mouth turned down at the corners. Lecture time.
“Once, the world was ruled by the great gods. They looked down on the earth from their rule on high, and mocked the antics of men and beasts alike. They bore children, and tormented them as they did the rest of their creations. The gods were frivolous and cruel, and the children of the gods balked at the tyranny of their sires but were helpless to stop them. After all, who can challenge the whims of a god?”
I swallow a groan and close my eyes, willing the dream to end. I’ve heard this story before. She has told it dozens of times. When I open my eyes, the dreamscape is still there, and Alekto continues without missing a beat.
“The youngest child of the king of the gods was given a sickle by his mother, the goddess of the earth. She had a soft spot for the humans and had grown tired of her husband’s antics. She knew her husband’s death would change the plight of man, who toiled long and hard only to have the gods dash it all away. The sickle was the only thing that could kill the old king of the gods, and the young god did not want to miss his chance. In the early light of dawn, when the day was not yet born, the young god struck. He slew his father, the oldest of the gods. Dying, the old god bled out over the world and swore revenge.
“The first drop of blood landed on a hawk hunting over a meadow. It was the First, born of the surprise of betrayal. Her moods are manic: one minute joyous, the next violent.
“The second drop of blood landed on a serpent sunning itself on a rock. Sly and cunning, the Second is the simmering anger that never fades but simply bides its time, waiting to strike.”
I sigh, hoping Alekto will hurry up and get to the point of our meeting. I don’t need to hear all of this again. But sometimes what she reveals is useful, so I bite my tongue and wait for her to finish.
“The third drop of blood landed on a maiden sleeping in a meadow, waiting for her beloved to return to her side. The Third was born of all the sorrow of betrayal, and she woke with a start, tears falling ceaselessly. She could not remember anything of her previous life, and she was consumed by the sadness of a now
dead god. But that sorrow and despair called to the other two, and when They joined her side, she felt a measure of peace. After all, They were all sisters of the same blood. Together They knew what They had to do—find the guilty and punish them for their crimes. And for a long time that is what They did.
“But one day something changed.”
I straighten at this, a new line in the story. Usually she just ends at the point where the three hunt the guilty and hand down justice, like the happily ever after in some twisted fairy tale. I frown at her, even though it’s hard since she’s so pretty. “What changed?”
She blinks, and looks at me like she has just realized I’m standing here. “You let Them loose again,” she begins, without any sort of transition. “How do you expect me to help you if you continually give in to Their demands?”
“I wasn’t aware I’d asked for your help.” I used to cower in fear when she spoke through my dreams, but she holds even less power than the Furies do. After almost five years of being joined to the Furies, I’ve figured some things out. They have constant access to me, but she can enter only through my dreams. They leave me the clues that lead me to Their prey. She does nothing but talk.
She purses her lips at me. “Not yet, but you will soon. You have to resist Them. The more you give in to Them, the closer They get to Their goal of ruling your mind completely. Do not let Them gain control of you.”
“What other choice do I have?” I snap. I’m tired of having this conversation. She keeps hinting that there’s a way to rid myself of Them, has for a long time. But she never gives me a straight answer, and I’m not entirely sure I trust her. After all, the only reason I have Them in my head is because at some point she severed her chains to Them. I can’t believe I’m the only person They’ve ever possessed. Did Alekto “help” that previous person too?
Besides, at least They are honest about Their goals. Alekto is not.
Vengeance Bound Page 2